


For Always

by Magz (sparklepocalypse)



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, all-human AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2003-08-14
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 15:54:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4528161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparklepocalypse/pseuds/Magz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time, as all good tales begin, there was a lovely dale where rain never dared to fall during daylight hours.  All-human AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Once upon a time, as all good tales begin, there was a lovely dale where rain never dared to fall during daylight hours. Above the village, there was an old stone keep, and in that keep there lived a wealthy lord and his lady, watching over the town below. A clear, freshwater stream ran along the edge of the little town, and tall, ancient pines were scattered amongst the farms and shops.

Now it came to pass that on the same day, two women in the little sunny dale found themselves with child. One of these women was the lady Geniveve, wife of Lord Rupert, who lived in the keep. This was to be their first child, and they were thrilled beyond words about the babe's impending arrival.

The other of the two women was Lady Genivieve's midwife, a kindly farmer's wife named Jocelyn. Jocelyn and her husband, Henry, had a three-year-old daughter named Tara, who was very happy to have a new little brother or sister on the way. Tara couldn't wait to teach the new baby everything there was to know about the village.

Jocelyn had been training an apprentice named Drusilla, a dark-haired, flighty girl of seventeen. When the midwife became pregnant, she'd immediately begun teaching the girl how to birth a child, for she knew that she'd be unable to deliver her own and Lady Geniveve's babe within weeks of each other. If the Lady had her child first, Jocelyn would be too weak and unsteady to deliver, and if Jocelyn birthed first, then she'd need a few weeks to heal before being able to help others.

Months passed. The two women's bellies swelled with their babes, while their husbands doted on them as well as they were able.

On a night when strong summer thunderstorms rumbled overhead, both babes announced to their mothers that they wished to be born.

Jocelyn immediately sent for Drusilla. Lord Rupert ushered Genivieve to the midwife's cottage beside the keep. The deliveries went well. Jocelyn's child was born first, a new sister for Tara that she named Buffy.

A few long moments later, Drusilla placed a slippery baby boy, crying lustily, next to the quiet, clean girl-child. The infants squirmed and latched onto each other, still mewling, their little toothless mouths suckling on each other's shoulders.

The midwife's apprentice watched the babies embrace. She had a sudden fit of inspiration as she observed them clinging to one another, the highborn infant boy and the baby girl who would likely become a servant in his keep.

 _Your hearts I bind, forever and always_...

It had been widely spoken that Drusilla possessed magical powers. Her father was a Gypsy, long-dead of _la grippe_ , his body dissolved in lime. Her mother had raised her, and at the age of fifteen she'd been sent to Jocelyn to learn the arts of healing. Now, two years later, she had twisted fate with a simple, whispered incantation.

The silence from the infants, lying on a separate bed atop the woolen blanket, alerted the midwife's apprentice's attention. They were snuggled close together for warmth, asleep.


	2. Different World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once upon a time, as all good tales begin, there was a lovely dale where rain never dared to fall during daylight hours. All-human AU.

Buffy looked over at William, who sat with his bare feet dangling over the edge of the narrow stone bridge on the brook. "What? The fish?" she asked, crossing her legs beneath her.

"No, silly, the ducks. Look at the ducks, the way they swim. It's quite funny." He picked up a pebble and tossed it into the water.

The young blonde girl turned her attention to the family of ducks that had become William's source of amusement. She pursed her lips. "I don't see anythin' funny about those ducks. Maybe you're the funny one, all funny in the 'ead."

"Just because you're older than me doesn't mean you can poke fun at me," the dark-haired boy informed her. "I'm going to be the lord of the keep some day - "

"Aye, an' I'll be the head servin' wench," Buffy interjected. "An' I'll poison your food, I will, to get you out 'f the way, so I can claim ownership of th' keep. I'll wear pretty dresses, an' I'll have a proper pair of shoes to match." Her bare, dirty toes wiggled beneath her linen skirt.

"Mayhap I'll give you a pair for our thirteenth birthday," he offered casually. "The finest pair of shoes in all the land."

"Mayhap I'll push _you_ into the stream," Buffy returned. "I don't want your shoes, William Giles. I want to buy them m'self."

"You wouldn't push me into the stream," he said smugly. "You like me too much."

"Oh, no?" she asked. She hopped to her feet, quick as lightning, and shoved him into the stream.

He came up spluttering and coughing water moments later. "You'll pay for that, Buffy!" he exclaimed.

"What are you going to do, put me in the sto - "

"William! Get out of there this instant!"

Buffy turned, bit off her retort, and curtsied deeply. "Afternoon, milord," she said, her eyes lowered.

Lord Rupert turned in the saddle to look at her. "Afternoon, Buffy. What happened here?"

"He fell in," she said innocently. "I tried to catch 'im, but I couldn't, milord."

"I did not fall, father!" William protested, pulling himself out of the brook and trudging up to the bridge. "She pushed me." He pointed accusingly at Buffy.

"I very much doubt that, William," Lord Rupert replied. "Now say goodbye and come along home. I've some things I need to say to you."

William glared at Buffy. "See if you get those shoes now," he grumbled. He turned and allowed Lord Rupert to pull him up onto the horse.

As they rode away, leaving Buffy standing on the bridge, the lord of the keep leaned down and said quietly in his son's ear, "I don't want you fraternizing with the midwife's daughter anymore, William. She's not of your station."

"But she's my friend," William protested. "And we were going to go on an excursion tomorrow."

"You'll not see her again, William. That's final, do you understand me?"

"Yes, Father," the lean twelve-year-old replied, hanging his head. "I understand."

 

The next afternoon, if passers-by had looked on carefully, they'd have noticed clumps of grass popping up here and there in the middle of the largest meadow. They'd have heard hushed young voices conversing if they'd stopped to really listen.

Buffy and William lay on their backs, kicking their bare feet against the grass and staring up at the blue, blue sky. William had stolen away after finishing his daily reading, and he and Buffy had run off, to the outer limits of her father's farm.

He plucked a long piece of green-gold grass and chewed on it thoughtfully. "Father told me this morning that he's sent for my betrothed." He rolled onto an elbow to look at her. "I don't think I'll like her."

"Why not?" Buffy asked, watching as a fluffy cloud drifted slowly by. "You're to marry 'er, you should like 'er."

"Because we won't be friends. Not like you and I are."

She rolled her eyes. "You're not supposed to be friends with your wife, William. You're supposed to love 'er, and cherish 'er, and plow 'er good an' proper until she bears you an heir - "

"How do you know about... about _plowing_?" he interjected.

"My mum taught me," she replied, matter-of-factly. "First, they 'ave a lot of ale. Then, the bloke takes out 'is - "

"That's not proper at all!" he sputtered. "You - you shouldn't speak of such things, Buffy. We're nearly thirteen now." He puffed out his chest. "I'm nearly a man."

"You? A man?" she laughed. "Ha! You're no man."

"Well, what am I, then?"

"You're William," Buffy stated firmly. "No more, no less. Jus' William."

"Harmony and I won't be like we are," he said again, after a few silent moments.

She raised a slightly dirty eyebrow, then continued as if he hadn't interrupted in the first place. " - an' after you get done plowin' her, you put 'er out to pasture, then you die an' rot in the ground with all those other fancy corpses you've got in the mausoleum next to th' keep."

"You're the crudest girl in all the world," William said amusedly. "Talking about plowing and dying. Someone should teach you a lesson."

"An' I suppose you think you're just the person to do it, right?" she asked, half-teasingly.

He nodded. "As the future lord of the land, I should begin giving out punishments. As practice, you see."

"You think you're gonna punish _me_?" Buffy queried incredulously, sitting up and putting up her fists. "All you'd end up with was a bruised face, that you'd 'ave to lie about when you got 'ome."

"Not if I do... _this!_ " he exclaimed, his hands shooting out and tickling her ribs. "Apologize for being so rude and uncouth, and I'll stop."

"Never!" Buffy shouted, giggling and slapping at his hands.

"Apologize!"

"No!"

He tickled her armpits. "Say you're sorry!"

"I won't, I won't, I _won't_!" she gasped, finding it hard to breathe because she was laughing so hard.

"Say it..." he suggested again, his tickling fingers mercilessly roving up and down her sides.

"Alright, alright! I'm sorry 'f I offended you... milord!"

"Don't you 'milord' me!" he cried, glaring at her.

"William, stop! Please?" she begged. "Please, I can't... breathe...!"

His hands ceased their motion and they slowly relaxed. In the tickle-torturing session, he'd somehow managed to pin her beneath him, and now he propped himself up with his elbows on either side of her head. "Did that teach you to be crude?" he asked.

"Aye," Buffy replied. "I'll never be crude again... long as you're around."

"That's better." He grinned down at her, tweaking her nose. "Father said that I shouldn't see you anymore. I snuck out."

"You'll get in trouble, William," Buffy scolded. "An' then we'll both feel bad."

"Spending the afternoon with my best friend is worth any punishment he could dole out," William returned. "Though, I suppose I won't be able to see you as much when Harmony gets here."

"You'll be busy... with your wife," she agreed. "Havin' too much fun with 'er to take some time out for the likes of me."

"I'll avoid her at all costs," he countered.

"You'll be plowin' her belly full of babes an' not want to see me anymore," Buffy said with an impish grin.

"Do I have to tickle you again?"

"No, thanks," she replied. "Once is enough for a day."

Silence settled once more as they stared each other down. On impulse, William leaned in and quickly kissed her, then pulled back and rolled off to the side.

"I don't think I'll like her."

 

Lord Rupert was waiting outside the midwife's cottage when William and Buffy strolled up the road, laughing quietly together. The dark-haired boy's smile disappeared as he took in the look of his father. He seemed to shrink down a bit, his shoulders slumping as he shuffled the rest of the way toward the cottage.

"William, I thought I made myself perfectly clear last night," the older man said sternly. "Now, you will not see Buffy again. I've made sure of it this time. Liam, come forth and acquaint yourself with your new charge."

Buffy stopped in her tracks. New charge? That meant that William was going to be sent away. She fell to her knees in front of Lord Rupert, pleading, "Don't send William away, milord! Please, please, don't send 'im away, he didn't do nothin' wrong!"

William looked on silently as his friend begged his father to change his mind. His brow furrowed slightly. "No, Buffy. It is his decision. If he wishes to send me away, I cannot fight him." He crouched down next to her, laying a hand on her shoulder. "It's for the best. We're from different worlds, you and I."

"We're _not_ , we're from the same world!" Buffy retorted, wiping furiously at the tears that had escaped her eyes. "You an' me, we both come from right 'ere, William! Born in the same 'ouse, by the same midwife, on the _same night_."

"Silly girl," Lord Rupert interjected. "I'm not sending my son away, I'm sending _you_ away."

Two twelve-year-old heads whipped around simultaneously to look at him. "What?" William asked, aghast.

"You heard me, William. Buffy is going away to live with Lord Angelus. She'll be his charge, and the companion of his only daughter, Willow." The finely-dressed man folded his arms, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

"I won't go!" Buffy exclaimed, scrambling to her feet. "You'll 'ave to catch me first!"

William and Lord Rupert watched as she dashed off. "Well, go after her. Lord Angelus is waiting," the older man instructed his son.

"She'll hate me..." William whispered.

Lord Rupert clapped his son on the shoulder. "Hate you, yes. It's for the best, though, son. Now go get her."

The heir to the fortune in the keep sighed heavily, sprinting off after Buffy. After a few minutes, he caught up with her and tackled her to the grass in the meadow that they'd spent the day in.

"Get off me, you lout!" she shouted, squirming beneath him.

He got to his feet, staring down at her warily. "Lord Angelus is waiting," he said after a moment.

"You're letting him send me away?" Buffy's voice was so small that he hardly recognized it. "After... after what 'appened today, you're lettin' him ship me off to some stranger's 'ouse?"

William looked at his hands. "I shouldn't have kissed you, Buffy. It wasn't proper, and I'm sorry I did it."

"Well, I'm not," she returned, her voice having regained some of its strength. "Least ways now I know that you thought about me the same way I thought 'bout you."

"No matter..." he trailed off, biting his lip thoughtfully. "No matter what we may or may not have thought about each other, Buffy, it wouldn't have ended well. You and I were born into different stations, and - "

"Get away from me," she hissed venomously.

He reached out for her hesitantly. "Buffy, I - "

"Get away!" she cried, slapping at his hand. "I hope you rot in your keep with your _Harmony_ , William. I hope you get old, an' fat, and lose all your looks an' wits, and that I get to see you do it."

"You don't mean that," he said quietly, his eyes stinging as he held back tears.

"I do, I do! I mean it all! May you always want me, but _never_ 'ave me, William Giles," she cursed. "Forever."


	3. Going Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once upon a time, as all good tales begin, there was a lovely dale where rain never dared to fall during daylight hours. All-human AU.

The village had changed little in the past five years. The little bubbling brook still ran clear, people still bustled from house to house as they ran their daily errands. The stone keep still stood high on the hill, its stone walls still strong and solid.

Buffy had never felt more like a stranger in her entire life.

Her long, flowing gown rustled softly as she shifted inside the carriage, staring out the window at the place that had once been her home. The place she'd come back to after hearing that her mother had taken ill.

William wasn't among her thoughts as she stepped from the carriage, lifted her skirts so that the hems hovered above the cobblestone street, and walked toward the cottage. It seemed fitting that William would be the first person she saw when she entered.

"If there's anything I can do for you, Jocelyn, just send for me," he said, releasing the older woman's hand and stepping away from her. When he noticed that she wasn't looking at him, but rather at someone behind him, he turned warily. "Are you here to see the midwife?"

"Yes, I am," Buffy replied quietly, discreetly looking him over. He'd become the man he'd said he was when they were twelve.

William tilted his head and gazed at the beautiful newcomer who looked as out of place inside the small cottage as he did. "I'm afraid she's unable to help you today. She's feeling under the weather." He stepped forward, his eyes on hers. "It is rare for such an elegant woman as yourself to pass through our village. I am Lord William Giles."

"Yes," the blonde said amusedly, "I know. Your reputation precedes you, milord."

"Will you be staying here long?" William asked. "I'd like to invite you and your man to stay in my keep for as long as you wish to."

"That won't be necessary, Lord William," Buffy said. "I'll be quite comfortable - "

"But I _insist_ ," he interjected. "You'll be well taken care of."

"Beggin' your pardon, milord," Jocelyn said raspily from her seat by the hearth, "but if my daughter don't want to stay with you in your fancy keep, I'd say let 'er stay 'ere instead. I've got a bed all made up for 'er."

"Your... daughter...?" William asked, dumbfounded. He stared blatantly at Buffy. "You're not..."

"Buffy, milord," the blonde replied. "I am Buffy."

"You're not..." He shook his head, walking around her and looking her over. "It can't be."

The younger woman smiled. "Have I truly changed so much since you last saw me?" she asked.

An image of a weeping twelve year old with dirty tear-tracks on her face, cursing him, flashed through his mind. He shook his head slightly, looking at her again. "Not so much," he decided. "Though, if I look closely, I see that you've changed here and there," he added, gazing at her breasts for a moment.

"Get your eyes off 'er!" Jocelyn reprimanded him, the statement punctuated by a cough. "It's _your_ fault she got sent away to begin with."

Buffy looked over at her mother, then back at William, whose expression appeared positively stricken. "It wasn't your fault," she said gently. "We should've known better than to hang about one another back then. It was a matter of social class, and I understand that perfectly now."

"Nevertheless, I do feel guilty for not asking my father to change his mind," he replied. He took her aside. "I'd like to go somewhere with you, so we can trade stories of the past five years."

"Who would be the chaperone?" she inquired.

 _Chaperone? Why would I want there to be a chaperone?_ William thought. "Riley," he answered, "my stableboy."

 

Riley the stableboy turned out to be a man of about twenty-five, whose mental deficiencies had allowed few opportunities for a good position in the town or a wife and family. He was kind enough, and gentle with the horses, but he wasn't the chaperone sort. This offered Buffy and William privacy beneath the large tree where they'd taken their picnic.

"What happened to your mother and father?" Buffy asked quietly, fiddling with a blade of grass and shifting on the thick woolen blanket William had laid down.

"Father died about a year after you left," he replied. "And Mother followed him soon after." He picked at a few stray pills on the wool.

"Oh, William," Buffy said, covering his hand with her own. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. It's not your fault," he returned. "What is Willow like?"

"She's got the reddest hair I've ever seen," she said immediately. "And she's very kind. I don't know why Lord Angelus needed a companion for her, she's got so many friends of her own."

"I heard that he'd adopted you as his own daughter," William said. "That you have everything, titles, fineries... shoes..."

"You never did buy me those shoes," Buffy mused.

"Because you pushed me into the stream," he shot back.

"You were so fascinated with those ducks, I couldn't bear to see you apart from them."

"If I pushed you into the stream, it would ruin your lovely gown," William said. "I'll just have to wait until you start dressing as you used to, to retaliate."

She laughed. "I'll stay quite dry, then. I don't plan on wearing those rags again, as long as I have such lovely clothes."

"Then I'll take them away from you. You'll have to put on the rags, or go about naked." He grinned at her, but the grin slowly faded as he imagined her without clothes. He cleared his throat. "You turned out to be quite pretty, do you know that?" William asked. "Especially when you laugh, it's really rather lovely."

Buffy glanced toward their chaperone. "We should return to the village. My mother will be waiting for me."

"Your mother is under the watchful eye of Drusilla. She'll not be bothered by the lack of your presence." He flopped over onto his back gracelessly. "I never married Harmony."

"Why not?"

"I didn't like her."

"You said you wouldn't, I remember," she replied. "Why didn't you like her?"

"She was irritating and stupid," he replied bluntly. "I wouldn't have been able to stand being around her long enough to get her with child - _plow_ her, I believe, was your term for it."

She blushed. "I was different then. I had no manners, it was quite rude of me to say such things."

"You said something else that day," William half-whispered. propping himself up on one elbow. "You said, 'may you always want me' - "

" - but never have me," Buffy finished softly. "Yes, I remember. I shouldn't have said that, either. I was distressed, and I took it out on you."

"I deserved it," he said contritely.

"No, you didn't. No person deserves to be cursed like that, William."

"So it was a curse?" William asked. "I didn't know you were capable of such a thing."

"I didn't either, until Drusilla took me aside the night before I left, and told me that she saw things in me that she hadn't seen before in anyone else," Buffy admitted. "I'm very sorry. I've probably ruined your entire life, by uttering some words in anger."

"Not a day went by that I didn't think of you," he whispered. "I'd wonder if you were happy in your new home, if you thought about me... if you were being courted..."

"I never had many suitors. Lord Angelus was very protective of Willow and I," she said after a time.

He took her hand, then fixed his gaze on their intertwined fingers before sitting up and kissing her softly. Buffy's brows raised in surprise, though her eyes had fallen closed. They pulled back as one, then melded their mouths again and again with short, petal-soft caresses of lips to lips.

It was Buffy's hand on his chest that halted William from pulling her close and kissing her fully.

"We shouldn't do this, William," she said quietly, turning her gaze away.

"Why not?" he asked, quelling the urge to press her down on the woolen blanket and ravage her mouth with his own. He leaned back on his elbows, looking up at her.

"I may appear to be a lady," she murmured, "but in my heart I'm still just a midwife's daughter. I'm not good enough for you, William. You deserve better."

"But I want _you_ ," he argued.

"It's the curse," Buffy said, looking at him sadly. "Nothing more."

 

Jocelyn wasn't doing well.

Buffy and William rushed into the cottage, hearing her coughing loudly. The panic-stricken looks on their faces displayed their worry for the middle-aged woman lying in bed in a corner of the main room.

Drusilla pulled them aside at the doorway. "Don't get too close to 'er," she warned. "There's no easy way for me to say this, milord..." she trailed off, looking Buffy over, "... milady... But Jocelyn is dyin'."

Buffy raised a shaky hand to her mouth, her eyes wide. "What?"

"She 'as consumption. Leastwise, that's what she told me she 'as. An'..." she turned her attention to William, "... she said she wanted to talk to you, milord. In private." The dark-haired woman looked at Buffy pointedly.

The blonde nodded, stepping out of the cottage with Drusilla. "How have you been?" she managed to ask.

"Passin' fair," Drusilla replied. "Got my own place in the next town, now. Doin' all the births an' healin', an' I took over for your mum when she got sick."

"That's good of you," Buffy said softly. "Thank you for taking care of her."

Inside, William was completely gobsmacked. "You want me to what?" he asked for a third time.

"You gone 'ard of 'earin' all of a sudden?" Jocelyn croaked. "Want you to marry my Buffy."

"Erm..." he began, clearing his throat. "Shouldn't Buffy be allowed to help with this decision?"

"She'd 'ave none of it," the midwife replied. "Don't know why, she was 'alf in love with you back when you were young."

William smiled a bit. "She was, wasn't she?" he asked, puffing up proudly.

"Saw the way you looked at 'er when you came in," Jocelyn continued, "an' I know she looks at you th' same way, when you're not payin' any mind."

"Oh, but that's... I... oh..." he sputtered, glancing around. "She won't like it."

"An' that's why I want _you_ to ask 'er, like you mean what you're sayin'. Make a dyin' woman happy?" she beseeched.

William looked at the midwife for a long time. She'd had a large role in his raising. Could he refuse to grant her dying wish?

 

Buffy stood as William exited the cottage, looking mightily confused. She laid a hand on his arm, frowning when he flinched slightly from the contact. "What's the matter?" she asked.

He rubbed the back of his neck, staring down the street for a moment, before turning to her. "Would you like to tour the keep? There have been a few changes since last you saw it."

"Oh, but... now?" She'd been prepared to take her afternoon tea by Jocelyn's bedside. Traipsing about his Lordship's grounds hadn't been part of the plan.

"You don't want to," he said quietly, looking away. She opened her mouth to reply, but he continued before she was able to speak. "I understand. You're a beautiful lady, you've no need to see the home of a man like myself."

"William," she interjected, distressed at his dull tone, "I would very much enjoy seeing your home again." She turned to Drusilla. "Could you please tell my mother that I've gone up the hill?" she requested.

Drusilla nodded and entered the cottage.

"Lead the way, kind sir," Buffy said, a hint of a smile gracing her features.

William offered her his arm, and she slipped her hand through it as he led her up the hill to the old stone keep. "The reason I'm bringing you up to the keep has little to do with the fact that we've renovated a bit," he admitted.

"Then why are you...?"

Around the corner of the blacksmith's shop, he slowed his pace, then halted altogether, turning toward her. "I wanted to talk about you. Well... us, really. Oh, and your mother."

She was confused, to say the least. "What does my mother have to do with us?"

"Right now?" he asked. "Everything."

"I don't understand," she said softly. "You may have to be more specific, milord."

He fumbled with the hem of his tunic, looked down at his hands, and blurted, "She has asked me to take your hand in marriage."

"She..." Buffy leaned against the outer wall of the blacksmith's shop weakly. "She what? She's not serious, is she? We can't - "

"What's stopping us? We like each other well enough," William commented, leaning next to her.

"It's a matter of station, William," she replied. "Just as it was five years ago, when I was sent away."

"You know just as well as I do that we're both of the same station now. That's not the real reason you're hesitating," he said. "It's your mother's dying wish, and I believe that we'd make her very happy by granting it."

"It's the curse," Buffy said finally. "You don't want me of your own free will. You want me because I _forced_ you to. I'm sorry, William, but I cannot - "

"What about emotions, Buffy?" William asked. "That curse of yours makes me want you, this is true, but it doesn't say a thing about _needing_ you. About needing the girl that I kissed a long time ago."

"That girl is gone, William!" she cried. "Don't you understand that? She's been gone for a long time, and all that's left is me."

"Don't make me force you into this marriage," William pleaded quietly. "I care deeply for your mother, and I want to abide by her wishes."

"The curse won't let you..." she trailed off, swallowing hard. "If we wed, you'll have no heir."

"I'll find one somewhere," he said. "I have family in the West."

"You're really willing to give up your bloodline to make my mother happy?" Buffy asked incredulously.

"She was there for me after my parents passed, more than anyone else," William responded. "I feel obligated to make her as comfortable and happy as I can."

"You've changed so much," she mused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately, this is where this one ends. I got caught up in other stories back in 2003 when I was writing this, and, well... I'm terribly sorry.


End file.
